


must now remind you

by ShowMeAHero



Category: DCU, Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Brothers, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Family, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-02 00:13:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16775755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: “Clark, how… how old?” Dick asks. There’s a beat of silence before Dick and Tim both snort in laughter. Jason flicks the lighter on and stares at the flame for a bit.“How oldwhat?”Tim demands, laughing. Clark leans back in his armchair. It ishisarmchair; he’s sat in it for the last twenty years.“How old will you live to?”





	must now remind you

**Author's Note:**

> As ever, I play fast and loose with canon and I do whatever I want.
> 
> Title taken from ["Let It Rock"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u0n4eMGXAyk) by Kevin Rudolf ft. Lil Wayne.

Kryptonians don’t age like humans do. Clark aged normally under the yellow sun (or so he told Dick, when Dick was a child) until he was about thirty, and then just… didn’t. Anymore. He basically looks exactly the same as he did when Dick first met him, when he was a little boy and Clark was tentatively inserting himself into Bruce’s daily life. Now, Dick is a grown adult man, and Bruce is getting older, and Clark is exactly the same.  _ Exactly  _ the same.

“Hey,” Dick says. He’s been sitting in the living room with Jason and Tim and Clark, the four of them sharing Jason’s bowl. Smoking pot doesn’t do anything to Clark, but he likes doing things with them when they’re all under the same roof, and this is what he found them doing. So.

“What’s up?” Tim asks. Dick leans over, passing Jason his lighter. Clark watches with a distantly bemused expression.

“Clark, how… how old?” Dick asks. There’s a beat of silence before Dick and Tim both snort in laughter. Jason flicks the lighter on and stares at the flame for a bit.

“How old  _ what?”  _ Tim demands, laughing. Clark leans back in his armchair. It is  _ his  _ armchair; he’s sat in it for the last twenty years.

“How old will you live to?” Dick clarifies. He takes the bowl when Jason passes it to him. “Like, you’re gonna be alive after we die, you look like you’re my age.”

“You could be brothers,” Tim comments. He’s on the sofa next to Dick. Dick’s in the middle; Jason’s on his other side, leaning back into the corner of the couch, staring at Clark’s face intently. They’re all staring at Clark now, actually.

“I don’t know,” Clark tells him. Dick can tell he’s being honest. “I’m not sure how the Earth’s sun will affect my lifespan. I’m just… going until I’m not.”

“Ain’t we all,” Jason says. He takes the bowl from Tim, stretching across Dick to grab it. When he inhales, he holds it for a second. Dick turns to look at him when the smoke leaks out of his mouth and nose, and he laughs at him.

“What’re you gonna do without Bruce?” Tim asks, because he believes in true love and all sorts of bullshit like that. Dick does, too, but he also knows you can love more than one person in your lifetime.

“I’m not sure,” Clark answers. He’s so genuine. Jason passes him the bowl and he takes a hit, even though it doesn’t mean anything to him. Dick appreciates it. He considers Clark his stepfather, sort of. In the way that the long-term partner of your adoptive father, who also happens to be Superman, just tends to be after years and years of friendship and sort-of parenting and all sorts of bullshit. Dick just studies his face. “I haven’t thought much about it.”

“Oh, that’s gonna suck,” Dick says. “Like, Bruce is kind of emotionally repressed. But I know you like him a lot.”

Tim snorts laughing again, leaning into Dick’s side as he wheezes. Jason raises an eyebrow in his direction, which makes Dick laugh, too. Clark’s smiling when Dick looks at him again.

“I do love him anyways,” Clark tells them. It sets all three of them off, even Jason.  _ “What?” _

“You’re just funny,” Tim comments. “Hey, should we get Damian in here?”

“How old is he?” Jason asks. Dick leans back to look at him. “What? Why’re you— What?”

“I don’t know if I’m more confused that you don’t know how old he is,” Dick tells him, “or that you’re concerned about him smoking when he runs around at night in a fucking costume punching cops.”

Tim wheezes another laugh. “Oh, God, is he still punching cops?”

“The three of you are absurd,” Clark comments. “How often do you do this?”

“When was the last time I saw you?” Jason asks. “I was here a few days ago, right?”

“Yeah, Sunday,” Tim answers.

“Whenever we’re all here,” Dick tells Clark. “It’s the only thing that stops us from killing each other while we’re in the same room together.”

“Not the  _ only  _ thing,” Jason argues. He takes another hit from the bowl. “We  _ also  _ kill  _ other people  _ together.”

Tim wheezes laughing while Dick exclaims, “We don’t  _ kill them,  _ Jay!”

Bruce comes in then and finds the three of them choking on laughter on the sofa while Clark looks on with the bowl in his hand. Dick leans over Jason’s side to look Bruce in the eye.

“Come on in,  _ Dad,” _ Dick says, and all three of them crack up. Bruce comes in to sit on the arm of Clark’s chair, taking the bowl from him and handing it back down to Dick. Dick takes it and inhales, lets the burn settle for a second before he takes the lighter and the bowl and hands them off to Tim, who just smiles at him, that happy, dopey-looking grin.

“What’re you doing to Clark?” Bruce asks. “I thought you were all in bed.”

“Damian and Jon are asleep,” Dick tells him.  _ “We,  _ however—”

“How could we do anything to Clark?” Tim asks. He’s watching the flame flicker up from the lighter, holding his thumb down on the lever to keep it alive. “It’s been years. He’s seen the worst of us.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Bruce says. Jason puts his chin in his hand, leans on the arm of the sofa. “I didn’t even know you were in the house.”

“Good,” Jason says. He winks at him, then turns to snatch the lighter from Tim’s hand. “That means I’m doing my job well.”

“What job? Being a sneaky asshole?” Dick asks. Jason elbows him in the side, and Dick just leans into him, grinning. Jason flicks the lighter on and holds his hand over the fire, letting it lick at his calloused skin. Dick pings it out of his hands, and Clark’s got it in his hands before anyone could blink. Dick never forgets what Clark is, but, sometimes, like now, he gets a little reminder of just  _ how much  _ Clark is.

Bruce takes the lighter from Clark’s hand, holds it up to the light. “I didn’t know you three did this.”

“Oh, sure you didn’t,” Jason comments. Tim laughs. “What do they call you? The world’s greatest detective?”

“They do call me that,” Bruce replies. Tim laughs even harder. “Isn’t this illegal,  _ Officer _ Grayson?”

“No  _ more  _ illegal than any of the other shit we do,” Dick says. Jason passes him the bowl, and Bruce tosses him the lighter. “In fact, I’d say this is the least illegal… Most legal?”

“Most legal,” Tim agrees.

“This is the  _ most legal  _ thing we do,” Dick finishes. The smoke burns the back of his throat, the insides of his lungs. He holds it until it hurts, and then he coughs it out, a burst of smoke clouding around his head. Tim takes the bowl from him.

“First time, idiot?” Jason asks. Dick doesn’t answer, picking up his beer off the coffee table and chugging half of it to stop the coughing. He leans over, puts his head on Tim’s shoulder, kicks his legs up into Jason’s lap. Jason shoves at him, but Dick kicks him in the side, and Jason lets him stay. He wraps a hand around one of Dick’s ankles, and Dick shuts his eyes, exhaling slowly.

Like this, things are okay. Dick doesn’t have to worry about anyone or anything. Thoughts, concerns, anxieties are at the edge of his brain, conceptually peripheral. He can’t make himself give too much of a shit, can’t stress himself out overmuch. He turns his cheek into the back of the sofa, enjoys the comforting warmth of Tim behind his back, Jason under his legs. He rubs at the label of his beer bottle with his thumb, feels it crumble under his touch and the condensation.

“I’m just glad you’re getting along,” Clark says. His voice is warm, familiar. It doesn’t jostle the silence too much. 

“Is  _ anyone  _ looking after the city?” Bruce asks. It sounds like he’s smiling, but Dick can’t get himself to open his eyes.

“I think Conner,” Dick says. “That’s what he told me, anyways.”

“Certainly not Batman,” Jason comments. Dick digs his heel into Jason’s thigh, and Jason pinches his ankle.

“Oh, shit, we should get some Lucky Charms,” Dick says, sitting upright. Tim’s hand on his shoulder eases him back down.

“I wish I could say this isn’t your average behavior,” Bruce says, “but I know that’s all you eat.”

Dick snorts a laugh, leaning into Tim’s chest and yawning. Tim’s arm drapes across his side, hand over his chest. Dick’s  _ comfortable.  _ For the first time in a long time, he’s genuinely  _ happy.  _ He hears Clark talking, hears the low rumble of his voice. Clark reminds him of his father. He’s not exactly sure what he’s saying, because he’s zoning out, drifting off into sleep, but he knows he’s content.

**Author's Note:**

> I also actually wrote some books! It was a long road but, I did it! Ta-da! If you want to read either of them, shoot me a message!
> 
> I have a blog now to request imagines - I just like to make people happy. Submit requests [here!](https://imagine-in-the-fandoms.tumblr.com/ask)
> 
> You can follow me on Twitter at [@nicolelianesolo](https://twitter.com/nicoIodeon) or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/).


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